


The Morning After

by kaylie153



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Adrinette, Aged Up, Drabble, F/M, Marichat, Morning After, after sex glow, idea i had in the shower, questioning decisions, small thing, someone is a stripper, the next mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 00:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20017612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylie153/pseuds/kaylie153
Summary: Marinette wakes up in a strange bed. She has vague memories about the nonsense she got up to the night before.





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm working on a solid, multi-chaptered Adrinette fic, but I've hit writers block. Luckily, I've heard that taking time to write with prompts, or just letting myself write when I get an idea, can help unblock. So be prepared for a couple drabbles in the next few weeks, until I can get back in the writing swing.

She jolted upright in bed, a groan escaping her throat as a hand found its way up to support her head.  _ Hungover. Of course. _ It crept on her slowly that she was not in her own bed. There were green sheets in place of her pink ones. She was facing the headboard and wall, on her knees, her bare back exposed to the room around her. And she couldn’t place exactly whose room it was. The only face that called from her memory was covered by a black mask, a flop of blonde hair, and too green eyes. 

“Oh my god.” Marinette let herself fall face-first into the pillow she had been sleeping on only moments before. “I went home with the stripper.”

The night came back in full force, bringing with it a pounding headache. 

The girls had been out to celebrate Alya’s last week as a non-married woman. Chloe had been the one to suggest a strip club, and everyone else thought it was a great idea. Marinette remembered the dancer just fine now. He had been dressed in black leather, with a belt for a tail. He’d picked her out in the crowd, brought her on stage, and tied her up with the aforementioned tail. All her friends cheered, and she was already drunk, so she flirted. He had been introduced as Chat Noir. 

_ What a stupid name.  _

Marinette turned over, letting her eyes adjust to the room. The bed was plenty comfortable, and the walls were tastefully decorated. Apparently, this stripper made bank. As she sat up, she wrapped the sheet around her chest. 

After his shift ended, he’d found her again, still wearing the mask. They had drinks at the bar and her friends thought she should go for it. It was probably a very stupid idea. She didn’t know this man. He could’ve killed her or drugged her. When they’d got back to his apartment, he was gentle, slow, and kept asking her if she was okay. With a groan, she recalled getting frustrated and just taking all her clothes off. She’s pretty sure he had taken off the mask at some point but wasn’t sure she could remember his face. 

Her face burned out at the memories of his mouth...  _ places _ . 

Suddenly she could hear noises coming from the other side of the apartment. He must’ve been out there. Probably pretending she didn’t exist, trying to forget the mistake he made by bringing her home. 

She kept the sheet tight around her as she walked down the hall, following lights and the sound of banging pots to a kitchen. He was stood by a counter, facing away from her, his back was hard muscle and fair skin. From her vantage point, she saw he was only in a pair of red boxers with black polka-dots. 

“G-good morning,” Marinette stuttered, the heat on her face reaching its boiling point.  _ Like a high school girl seeing her crush. _

When he turned her way, she felt her jaw hit the ground. 

_ No fucking way.  _

He was gorgeous, but she could have figured that. He was well-muscled, lean, his skin was smooth. That blonde hair of his hit just above his shoulders and his green eyes were hypnotic. But that signature grin had her heart skipping. 

In front of her was one of the most popular models in all of France. Heir to a fashion empire, son of her own boss, standing in his kitchen with a “cat caught the canary” smile so big she thought she would go blind. 

And he was moonlighting as a stripper. 

“Adrien?”

Thankfully, he had the decency to blush, a hand going to the back of his neck. “Hi, Mari.”

The sound of his voice brought back the rest of her late-night memories. Him calling her name, her moaning his, and the way his face softened when he looked at her out of that stupid mask. She definitely felt better knowing that she hadn't had sex not knowing who she slept with, but she did wish she had been more present at that moment. By the time he had come out of the mask, she had mostly sobered, but her mind had been too hazy to make clear memories.

Marinette’s fingers played with the edge of the sheet that stretched across her breasts.  _ There was an easy way to solve experiencing Adrien with a completely focused mind… _

Adrien’s eyes went wide as the sheet slipped away from her body, goosebumps raising up on her shoulders. He ate her up with a slow grin, his eyes coming to rest on her devilishly gleaming blue orbs.

As he stepped around the counter toward her, she let out a giggle. She could get used to that look on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr at marichatandme


End file.
